The clouds hang gray this mid-winter day, while streets glisten with the watery sheen of rains that never break for long. Wheels roll through, throwing the water into a swish-slosh song. All seems clean, if perpetually dreary. The air looks clear, though some funk clings to one's shoulders as one walks through town, and every scent is compressed in intensity at street level. streets glisten, the city slick from rains that linger
This was taken on a side street in Chinatown near Old Siam Market. Tuk-tuk, food carts, and convenience store–a Bangkok trifecta.
I just missed the perfect picture of this cow using its hoof to push the button for the pedestrian crosswalk light. I’m kidding of course, Bangalore doesn’t have functioning buttons for the pedestrian crosswalks and the cows damn sure know it.
When I first moved to Bangalore, I would have thought the street above couldn’t be crossed. However, I’ve now learned that one has to take advantage of the speed differential between the bikes and livestock on one hand and the motorized vehicles on the other to get one’s foot in the door. Then one has to cross in stages, with vehicles whipping passed to fore and to the back. It’s like getting vaccinations with the cattle gun in the military, you take a step forward and stop precisely. Except, instead of getting a gash in one’s arm, the penalty is being pelted with a rear-view mirror. It’s the only way, really.